Pauper's Gold (8 page)

‘Another mill!’

‘Yeah. You can walk to it by a path on the other side of the mill pool.’ He squeezed Hannah’s hand and lowered his voice. ‘I’ll show you that another time.
It’s a lovely walk by the river. Very quiet and peaceful.’ He glanced about him and then added, ‘But we ought to go back now. If we’re late for dinner, we’ll all be in
trouble.’

‘Don’t expect
you
will be, though,’ Luke sparred. ‘Not with Mrs Bramwell, anyway.’

Colour suffused the other boy’s face. ‘Have it your own way then,’ he muttered moodily and looked directly at Hannah. ‘I was only thinking of you. You’ve been in
trouble already, haven’t you?’

Hannah lifted her face to the sunshine, closing her eyes and luxuriating in the feel of the breeze on her face, rippling through her hair. ‘You’re right, Joe. But it’s so
lovely out here. It’s almost worth risking a spell in the punishment room just for an hour or two of freedom.’

‘Well, I’m going back now.’ Joe let go of Hannah’s hand. ‘I don’t fancy a beating from Mr Bramwell. You lot can please yourselves.’ He thrust his hands
in his pockets, turned and began to walk back the way they had come.

Worriedly, Daniel said, ‘Come on. We ought to do what he says.’

‘I’m not going back just ’cos
he
says so,’ Luke scoffed. ‘Come on, Hannah, let’s walk a bit further. It’s a great view from up here. Much better
than walking on the road. You can see everything.’

‘I don’t think we ought to,’ Daniel murmured, frowning.

Now it was Luke who grasped her hand. ‘Well, you go, Dan. We’ll see you later,’ he called back cheerfully to his twin. Now – just as he’d wanted all along –
he had Hannah to himself.

Joe Hughes had spent most of his life in the workhouse and then in the mill. Places where segregation was the rule. And although he was younger than Joe, from his early years spent on a farm
Luke, even at eleven years old, probably knew more about the natural instincts of animals – and human beings – than the older boy did. And Luke’s natural instinct was to contrive
to be alone with a pretty girl, to hold her hand, to put his arm around her. Even, if he was greatly daring, to kiss her.

And the prettiest girl he’d ever seen in his life was walking beside him right now.

‘D’you like Joe?’ he asked her suddenly.

‘He’s all right,’ she said carefully. ‘Why? Don’t you like him?’

Luke pulled a face. ‘He’s a bit of a know-all.’

‘Well, he’s been here a few years now. I think he’s only trying to be friendly.’

‘The other lads say he’s Mrs Bramwell’s favourite.’

Hannah laughed. ‘That’s what Nell said an’ all.’

Suddenly, Luke grinned. ‘Mind you, it might do us a bit of good – to be on his right side.’

‘Oh, Luke! How could you possibly think such a thing?’ Then she giggled deliciously. ‘But you could be right.’

‘Look,’ Luke said suddenly. ‘Isn’t that the Grundys’ farm down there?’

‘I think so. Yes, it’s near the crossroads, but doesn’t it look small from up here.’ She laughed. ‘And look at the cows in the field. They look like
ants.’

‘And look up there. Joe’s right, that is the Wyedale Arms where the carter dropped us off.’

‘Mm.’ Hannah’s voice was suddenly wistful. ‘I wonder,’ she began, and then stopped.

‘If you could get a lift back again one day?’

Her eyes widened. ‘How – how did you know?’

Luke’s expression softened, and he was no longer teasing as he said, ‘Because if I had a mam back there, then I’d be wanting to go back to see her sometime.’

‘You would?’ Hannah breathed.

Luke nodded. ‘And if you ever want to –
really
want to – then I’d help you do it.’

‘Even if . . . even if you got into trouble?’

‘It’d be worth it – for you to see your mam,’ he told her earnestly.

Hannah felt a blush creep up her neck and into her face. Tears prickled her eyelids. ‘Oh, Luke,’ was all she could say.

He squeezed her hand. ‘We’d best be getting back an’ all now. Look, there’s a path here going right down to the farm. I ’spect it’s one the sheep have worn on
their way back home. Let’s follow it. We’ll go back this way. It’ll be quicker. We can run on the road.’

Feeling a thrill of daring, they followed the path down the hillside towards the river. Hand in hand they ran across the footbridge over the water and up the lane bordered by the Grundys’
farm. A man stood in the yard, watching their approach. He took his cap off, scratched his head and replaced it. He moved towards the gate and leaned on his arms on the top of it.

‘Now where’re you two off to in such a hurry? What’ve you been up to, ’cos you’ve got “guilt” written all over your faces.’

‘A’ you Mr Grundy?’ Luke said as they stopped by the gate.

‘Tha’s right. And who’re you then to know my name?’

‘Your wife was very kind to us when we arrived the other day,’ Hannah said. ‘She gave us some lovely stew.’

‘Ah,’ said the burly man as understanding dawned. ‘From mill, a’ yer?’

The two youngsters nodded.

His expression softened. ‘Out for a bit of an airing, a’ yer. ’Spect there’s not much fresh air in that place.’

‘It’s very dusty, isn’t it?’ Hannah said. ‘With all the cotton bits floating in the air.’

The man nodded. ‘I’ll give you a tip. Whenever you wash, bathe your eyes with clean water. A lot of the youngsters get trouble with their eyes. And if they get very sore, you come
and see my missis. She’ll give you some eye lotion to use, ’cos that old skinflint won’t spend an ’apenny on having a doctor visit if he can avoid it.’

‘Thank you, Mr Grundy. That’s very kind of you.’

The man smiled. ‘Coming in to see the missis, ’a you? Nice joint of lamb we’ve just had for dinner.’

The children’s mouths watered, but regretfully Hannah said, ‘That’s ever so kind of you, but we ought to get back. If we’re missed, we’ll be in trouble. And
it’s the best meal of the week today. Boiled pork and potatoes.’

‘On yer go then. I’ll tell the missis I’ve seen you.’

Bidding him goodbye, Hannah and Luke began to run. They didn’t stop until they were in sight of the mill.

‘I reckon Joe and Daniel’ll both be in a huff with us.’ Luke grinned, looking not particularly bothered.

‘They’ll get over it.’ Hannah laughed. ‘At least, Daniel will. He’ll not stay mad at you for long. As for Joe – he can please himself.’

Luke felt a warm glow. When they arrived at the back door of the apprentice house breathless from running, Hannah turned to Luke.

‘That was wonderful.’ Her cheeks were pink, her bright eyes glowing and her hair flying free. Luke caught hold of her and gave her a swift, fumbling peck on the cheek.

Then, as they opened the door and burst into the kitchen, eighty or so pairs of eyes turned in their direction.

Near the range, with her hands folded and her mouth pursed, stood Ethel Bramwell. Slowly, she walked towards them. There was not a sound in the room. The children, seated on benches on either
side of the four long tables, stopped eating to watch what was about to happen.

Ethel Bramwell reached them. ‘And where might you two have been when there’s work to be done? You’re not allowed out of this house without permission. You should have come
straight back here after the service. Why didn’t you? I know you are both comparatively new here, but you know the rules, don’t you?’

Hannah and Luke glanced at each other. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ they murmured in unison.

‘If it hadn’t been for Joe telling me that he’d seen you going up the hill,’ Mrs Bramwell went on, ‘I might’ve thought some accident had befallen you and sent
people out to look for you. You’d’ve been in serious trouble then.’

Hannah felt a flash of anger. So, Joe was a telltale an’ all, was he? It seemed there was no one here she could trust, except the three children who’d come with her from the
workhouse. And maybe Nell. She liked Nell. Daniel would never in a million years tell tales about his twin. He’d rather take punishment himself. But Joe, it seemed, had no such scruples.
Hannah guessed that he was miffed at Luke having taken Hannah away from him on the walk
he
had planned. And now, he’d taken revenge.

Her glance raked the tables until she saw him. He was the only one with his gaze averted. He dared not look her in the eyes. Well, Hannah promised herself, she’d sort him out later, but
her attention was dragged back to what Mrs Bramwell was saying.

‘I can’t let this go unpunished even so. There’ll be no dinner for either of you. You’ – she pointed at Hannah – ‘will spend the rest of the day in the
punishment room on bread and water.’ Her glance turned to Luke. ‘And we’ll see what a beating will do for you.’

She stepped between them and laid a hand heavily on their shoulders. ‘Come along.’

As they were led away, Hannah caught sight of the tears coursing down Jane’s face, of Nell’s anxious look and Joe’s scarlet cheeks.

Not until the next morning as they hurried to work were Hannah and Luke able to speak to each other.

‘Was it very bad, Luke? Did she hurt you?’

‘It was him – Mr Bramwell – not her. He beats the boys and she punishes the girls.’

‘Did it hurt?’

‘It wasn’t too bad. I’ve ’ad worse from old Goodbody.’ The lad grimaced and Hannah knew he was being brave. ‘I’m sorry I led you into trouble, Hannah,
but it was great out there on the hills, wasn’t it?’

‘Yeah, it was. And it’s not the first time I’ve been in trouble and I doubt it’ll be the last.’ She grinned at him. ‘I’m just sorry we didn’t stop
and have Mrs Grundy’s roast lamb, aren’t you?’

As they parted in the yard to go to their separate places of work, Ernest Scarsfield saw them laughing together. He’d heard about the previous day’s escapade and now he shook his
head in wonder. Was there nothing that would tame this girl? Because the way she was going on, she was going to spend half her days in trouble. And the more trouble she got into, the harsher the
chastisement would become. He didn’t want to see a pretty, bright little lass like her forever being punished, yet he couldn’t help but secretly hope that her spirit would never be
broken. He’d seen it all over the years. Undernourished, overworked children cowed and old before their time, many of them never even reaching adulthood. The work was arduous and only the
strongest endured. He devoutly hoped Hannah was a survivor.

The following Sunday as they walked back from the morning service in the schoolroom, Luke whispered, ‘Are we going out again?’

Hannah shook her head. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to, or that I’ve suddenly turned into a bootkisser like Millie calls me.’

Luke grinned. ‘Fat chance!’

Hannah smiled too. ‘But I do want to keep in Mrs Bramwell’s good books for a bit, if I can. You know what she’s like.’ Suddenly, Hannah clapped her hands and mimicked the
superintendent. ‘“Come along, come along. There’s work to be done.” Well, I’m going to do whatever she asks me. You see, I want to go and see me mam. And they
won’t let me if I keep getting meself into trouble, will they?’

Luke pulled a face. ‘I don’t think they will anyway. ’Specially not yet. We’ve only been here a couple of weeks.’

‘Well, I’m going to try in another two weeks’ time,’ Hannah said determinedly. ‘But in the meantime, I’m going to behave myself.’

Luke laughed aloud. ‘I’ll believe that when I see it. By the way,’ he added, ‘have you seen Joe?’

‘Not to speak to. I’ve seen him in the yard but he scuttles out of my way whenever he catches sight of me.’ Her eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘Reckon he’s scared to
face me.’

‘Me an’ Daniel thought about giving him a thumping—’

‘Oh, don’t do that, Luke. You’ll end up in more trouble.’

He nodded. ‘That’s what Daniel said. So instead we’ve got all the other lads to ignore him for a bit. None of ’em can stand him, so maybe that’ll teach him a
lesson.’

Hannah laughed. ‘Poor Joe,’ she said, but there was not much sympathy in her tone.

The four children had been living and working at the mill for a month. Apart from still trying to help Jane with the evening’s household chores when the younger girl was
almost dropping on her feet with tiredness, Hannah had been a model of good behaviour. Every day, except Sunday, was the same. All the children, regardless of their age, were woken at five thirty
in the morning and had to be at work by six. Their breakfast of porridge and oatcake was brought to them in the mill by the overworked Mary from the apprentice house, but the children were allowed
an hour at midday to go back to the house for their dinner. They then returned to the mill and worked until six o’clock in the evening, followed by two hours’ schooling, household
chores, supper and bed. The food was reasonable – better than the fare in the workhouse. There was a regular supply of fresh vegetables from the field in front of the mill, in which the boy
apprentices worked on Sundays under Arthur Bramwell’s instruction whilst the girls sewed and darned under his wife’s direction. They were given meat two or three times a week and there
was plenty of milk from the Grundys’ cows.

Hannah remained fit and healthy. She’d taken Mr Grundy’s advice and bathed her eyes night and morning, which seemed to prevent her suffering from the eye infections that plagued many
of the mill’s workers. And sometimes, when the atmosphere became dense with the floating dust from the cotton, she would tie a piece of clean rag around her mouth and nose.

‘Look at Lady Muck here,’ Millie would jeer, but it wasn’t Hannah who went home at night with rasping breath and her mouth caked with fuzz.

At the end of Hannah’s fourth week at the mill, Mr Scarsfield came into the preparation room. ‘I’m going to try you as a piecer, Francis. You’ve made good progress in
here and—’

Overhearing, Millie piped up. ‘What about me, Mr Scarsfield? I’ve been here longer than Boot. I should be—’

Ernest Scarsfield frowned. ‘Boot? Why on earth do you call her Boot?’

Millie blushed. She’d called Hannah the derogatory name ever since that first day. Usually she remembered to call her by her proper name in front of their superiors, but in her indignation
at being passed over, as she thought, the nickname had slipped out.